


Untitled

by Laramie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: Please give me title suggestions?Note: sad.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please give me title suggestions?
> 
> Note: sad.

Jimmy's heart sank when he opened the door to see two people on his doorstep instead of one.

"Hi, Jimmy," the tall blonde one, Diana, said. "I've got someone shadowing me today - this is Alecia."

Jimmy hated the new ones. He knew they couldn't help not knowing anything, but they still disrupted the routine and one never knew how they were going to turn out.

"Hi," Alecia said, smiling at him as she and Diana came through the door into the hall.

"How's he doing today?" asked Diana.

"Same as ever," replied Jimmy. He shut the front door and followed the two women into the living room, with Diana saying to Alecia:

"He likes to be called Mr Barrow. Don't you Mr Barrow, eh?" she added, looking at Thomas in his armchair.

"I like to be shown proper respect from you young'uns," said Thomas. He caught Jimmy's eye and winked.

Jimmy smirked at him, settling into his chair.

"Are you ready then, Mr Barrow?" asked Diana, moving Thomas's zimmerframe a little closer to him.

Thomas reached up to hold the handgrips, shuffled to the edge of his armchair and laboriously pulled himself to standing. He paused there, catching his breath, before making his slow way out of the room. The two carers followed, a look of determined patience on both their faces.

Jimmy was left in the living room alone; Thomas didn't like him to be there for this bit. The carers had been coming for a few months now, because Thomas had become too frail to take care of himself and Jimmy was too frail to take care of them both. Thomas hadn't liked the idea, and even Jimmy had struggled to admit that they couldn't look after themselves or each other anymore, but after Thomas fell once too often in the shower, they seemed to have no choice.

"Are you two brothers then, Mr Barrow?" Jimmy heard the new one say curiously. He clenched his hands on the arms of his chair, his fingertips turning white.

"No we're bloody not," Thomas ground out. "Open the door for me."

Jimmy heard the bathroom door open; quiet for a minute; and then it closed behind them.

-

Thomas sank onto the perching stool with relief. The distance between the living room and bathroom seemed to be getting longer.

"Mr Barrow's nice and simple," Diana told Alecia, turning the tap on full blast and sticking a finger under it to feel when the hot water came through. "In the evenings it's a strip wash and teeth brushed, medication, change of clothes and into bed." As she spoke, she was putting in the plug, dropping two flannels into the water and squirting in some vibrant blue body wash.

"Oh," said Thomas, remembering suddenly. "Tell Jimmy he needs to do my gel. He forgot this morning."

"Alright, Mr Barrow. Why don't you carry on with this, Alecia, and I'll go and remind him again," said Diana, and she went out through the bathroom door.

Alecia wrung out the white flannel and handed it to Thomas. "D'you want to do your face, then?"

Thomas removed his glasses and balanced them carefully on the side of the sink. He took the flannel from Alecia and washed his face; once he was done, he exchanged it for a towel and dried off.

"I'll just take this off and give you a little wash," Alecia said, unbuttoning Thomas's shirt to reveal his vest.

"I can do it," Thomas snapped, taking over from her and slipping the shirt off his shoulders. He hated being treated like a child.

Alecia whisked the shirt away and washed his arms. "Vest off too, Mr Barrow," she said briskly.

Thomas felt a stab of unease at her tone. "No."

"Come on, we need to give you a proper wash," she persisted, shaking the strap of his vest.

" _No_ , not there," Thomas protested, clamping his hands on the neck of it in fear.

"Don't worry, Mr Barrow, I -"

" _No_!" Thomas was so afraid she would strip the vest off he burst out crying, which at least had the advantage of surprising Alecia so much that she froze. It was terrifying to be reduced to this, needing help to wash, being so weak he couldn't count on stopping a young woman from baring his secrets.

Diana bustled back into the room, looking stunned at the scene before her, at Thomas's tear-streaked cheeks. "What the hell's going on in here?"

"I was trying to get him to take his vest off for a wash and -" Alecia gestured at Thomas in bafflement.

"Oh, no," said Diana, walking over to rub Thomas's back soothingly. "Mr Barrow always keeps his vest and pants on, don't you, my love?"

Thomas nodded and wiped his face with his hand.

Diana gave him the white flannel again to wash the tears away.

"But he's got to have a wash," Alecia said with confusion.

"It's still his choice, isn't it? Very modest, our Mr Barrow," Diana replied. To Thomas, she added: "Jimmy's going to come in after we've gone and do your gel then, alright?"

"Fine," Thomas said, hoping Jimmy wouldn't forget. He tried so hard but his memory wasn't what it had used to be.

Diana talked Alecia through the rest of the visit. With their help, Thomas brushed his teeth, had his legs washed and cream applied, then put on his pyjamas and struggled into the bedroom while Alecia was sent to fetch a fresh glass of water for him to take his tablets.

Once they had left, Jimmy came in to the bedroom and read Thomas's expression at once. "What's up?"

"I don't want that new one again," Thomas said, looking up at Jimmy from his place lying on the bed.

"Okay. I'll call them in the morning and say we don't want her."

"I love you." It meant so much that Jimmy took him at his word, as he always had.

"I love you too," Jimmy responded, digging into the drawer in the nightstand and pulling out a packet of Thomas's gel. He pulled a plastic glove onto his left hand. "Ready?"

Thomas nodded and turned onto his front, while Jimmy pulled down the covers and then pushed up Thomas's shirt and vest to rub the gel onto his back.

"Diana thinks we should let them put this on for you," Jimmy said, now that Thomas couldn't see him. "She thinks I can't do it."

"But I like you doing it," Thomas protested. "And I don't trust them not to forget."

"She might have a point, though," Jimmy said uneasily. "This is supposed to be done at the same time every day. And I keep forgetting. I want to do it right for you but I just…"

Thomas mulled it over silently. It was true that he liked Jimmy to be the one to apply his medicated gel; but it was also true that neither of them seemed quite up to the task of remembering it. He hated the thought of being reliant on somebody else for such a basic need, of revealing what the gel was and, in consequence, the secret he had kept from them for months; but the application had become so erratic that it was starting to affect his mood. He could, of course, apply the gel himself, but for one thing he remembered barely more than Jimmy and for another, he just liked the thought of Jimmy being the one helping him.

Thomas heard the sound of Jimmy removing the plastic glove, felt his vest and pyjama top being pulled down.

"I could mention it tomorrow," Jimmy suggested hesitantly as Thomas turned over; "When I call them. At least discuss it. If you want."

"Okay," Thomas agreed, watching as Jimmy dropped the glove-wrapped gel packet into the bin then moved slowly around the end of the bed to climb in the other side.

Jimmy lay back with a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, closing his eyes briefly.

"When did we get so old?" Thomas said, searching for Jimmy's hand under the covers.

"Years ago," Jimmy sighed, turning his head on the pillow to look at Thomas. "I never really thought I'd get old. Dunno why. S'pose I thought I'd find something more interesting to do."

"Are you bored with me?" Thomas asked.

"God, no," Jimmy said hastily, his eyes shining with sincerity where they met Thomas's. "I didn't mean that. Not at all. The day I walked into your shop was the best day of my life. I'm grateful every day to have met you, Thomas. I can't even imagine what would have happened if I hadn't."

"You saw me even then," Thomas said quietly. "You knew there was something strange about me."

"It’s not strange. It's just different. Right?" Jimmy raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Right, Jimmy." Thomas didn't always believe it himself, but Jimmy never seemed to doubt.

Jimmy smiled at him, age lending more wrinkles around his eyes than had used to be there. His grey hair was still soft, though finer than it had been when blonde. "Cuddle me?"

"Of course."

Jimmy turned onto his side, facing away from Thomas, and Thomas shuffled in behind him, weak muscles protesting the movement.

"I'm gettin' too old for this," Thomas sighed, wrapping his arm around Jimmy. The one he was lying on began to tingle. "My arm's going to sleep already."

"The day we're too old for huggin's the day I go to me grave," Jimmy said grimly.

A cold shiver ran down Thomas's spine like the caress of the Grim Reaper. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Sorry. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, my darling."

-

Becca - the coordinator or manager or whatever she was called - the _boss_ , anyway - came to see them only a few hours after Jimmy called the next day. She set a big file beside her and sat on the sofa.

"You didn't get on with Alecia, then, Mr Barrow?" she asked.

"No," Thomas replied simply.

"We only have two carers left who you haven't banned," Becca said. "It does make it difficult to cover your calls sometimes. Is there nobody else you'd consider?"

"He said no," Jimmy said flatly. "We don't want people in our house who we don't like."

"Of course," Becca agreed, poorly concealing her exasperation. "But you're happy with the other two?"

"Diana's very nice," Thomas said. "And Lisa tells me jokes," he added with a smile. He loved that; the dirtier the better. And Lisa knew a lot of dirty jokes.

"That's good," said Becca, smiling back at him. "It's good to laugh." She let a few moments pass then asked: "What was it you wanted to talk to me about today?"

"About some of my medication," Thomas explained. "It's a gel… Jimmy's been doing it but…" He looked up and reached for Jimmy's hand; Jimmy loosely locked their fingers together (not too tightly, because if the arthritis kicked in, they would be quite literally locked together). "Neither of us are very good at remembering it."

"Well, we can certainly add it to the medication form, then the carers can apply it for you and you won't have to worry."

"I just like _Jimmy_ doing it," Thomas said.

"Alright, how about we change your care plan so that carers prompt you to apply it at the right time?" Becca suggested.

Jimmy seemed to perk up a bit. "You can do that?"

"Of course."

"I don't want them knowing what it is," Thomas put in. "They can just remind Jimmy and he can do it for me."

Becca looked curiously at Thomas. "Why is it so important to you that Jimmy applies the gel?"

Thomas looked at Jimmy, then fixed his eyes on his own knees. "I trust him," he said. "My… my body can't… it doesn't make testosterone properly. So this… fixes it." He glanced up to check Becca's reaction.

A look of understanding was taking over her face. "My son's just the same," she said gently. "He started off on the gel, but he's on injections now, every three months. Would that not be easier for you?"

"I don't like needles much," Thomas mumbled.

"Alright, well, we'll alter the care plan for now so that carers remind you to apply the gel in the morning. And if you change your mind about the injections, we can support you by finding you transport to the doctor's or we might even be able to organise a district nurse to come to your home."

"That's good," Thomas agreed, soaring with relief. He smiled at Jimmy and kissed the back of his hand.

"How did you two meet?" Becca asked; Thomas looked over to see that she was glancing between them both with a smile tugging at her lips.

Thomas and Jimmy exchanged a glance. They made up a new story every time they were asked - which, admittedly, wasn't all that often.

"We were in the same squadron in the army," Thomas said, in the same moment as Jimmy claimed:

"He was my medic when I had malaria in Africa."

Well, at their age, they had to make their fun where they could.

 


End file.
